The Color Red
by The Blue-Winged Demon
Summary: A short little Dilandau/Celena fic. That kind of flower is a memory, of one who cannot be forgotten, and one who can.


Author's notes: Well this was an experiment!  It's my very first Escaflowne fic ever so don't be too terribly mean if it sucks!  But hey, it turned out kinda pretty so I decided to upload it!  Anyways, with that said, enjoy!

The Color Red

The sun was crimson fire in the sky as it set, spattering blood across the horizon, and the wind whistled through the long hair of a crestfallen looking man as he climbed his hill in silence.  A place of reflection for him, of memories, and each flower petal as it darted nimbly through the strata upon a breeze a reminder of things he could never forget, of times long past and people and love come and gone.  He was not surprised upon reaching the simple headstone he had sought, to already find a slim light haired and green clad figure already perched neatly beside it, singing softly to herself as she plucked the petals of a pair of freshly cut flowers and released them into the air.  The girl watched with curious and mournful blue eyes as they were spirited away from her and to a distant place, and her sorrowful countenance brightened as a familiar figure reached up with a familiar hand to catch a memory in his grasp.  

"I didn't know you liked these flowers, too, Celena," Allen said quietly, continuing toward her.  

"Of course, they're beautiful," she replied as she severed the last of the petals from the one she had been denuding.  

"Mother loved them too, did I ever tell you what they mean?" he added as he crossed his legs to sit alongside her in the long waving grass.  

"No you didn't, what do they mean?" Celena asked pensively, placing her stem at the base of the gravestone of the woman her brother had mentioned, and burying it with one hand slowly.  

"They mean 'one who cannot be forgotten', that's why I like to put them here," Allen remarked fondly, "I'll never forget her."

Celena sighed and gently closed her palm about the long green stalk of the other pink blossom she had brought with her, and brought it up to the sunlight, illuminating it in a fiery red as she smiled.  

"I wish I could remember more about her," she whispered, tenderly caressing the silken petals and looking back to Allen, "I barely remember anything before…"  She stopped, seeing her beloved brother's face twist in anguish so subtly, she almost obeyed the strange urge in the back of her mind to continue, but knowing it would only bring him pain, kept it at bay.  

"Do you remember anything while you were under that… That spell?" he asked hesitantly, and Celena felt something grin as a splash of blood fell across her vision.  "Not really," she answered quietly, watching the viscous red liquid drip thickly to the petals of the flower in her hands.  

"I don't even know what I looked like."  "I'm glad," said Allen with a kind smile, which Celena returned.

She pinched a soft pink petal between her fingers only briefly as the red faded, deciding swiftly against pulling it away from its life giving stem, instead raising it back to the sun to illuminate the pale color in a rich crimson.  

"Why do you say that brother?" she asked inquisitively, smiling at the first glimmers of stars in the stained velvet sky.  "Why do I say what?" the blonde-haired man replied as he dusted the remains of his last visit away from the base of gravestone.  

"That it's better I don't remember him," she retorted with an air of defiance hidden within a stronger voice that caused Allen to lose his own for a moment.  

"Well, Celena, I don't think you need to dwell on what happened in the past, it's all over now," was his only response as he laid the small bouquet down.  

"I wish I could remember…" Celena added after a small silence, to which her brother sighed loudly, their backs still turned to each other.  

"Try not to think about it too much, you'll only hurt yourself, promise me you'll forget all about it, I don't want you hurt anymore," he said evenly, and the last of the flower petals faded from the gaze still staring into the flame rimmed disk of the bloody red sun.

Looking back down to the still fresh and vibrant bloom in her palm, and loosening the grip that had been fond to begin with, Celena turned back to Allen with a crookedly amiable smile as he cast a disapproving gaze over his shoulder to her.  

"Alright, we'll make a deal then.  I promise I'll try to forget, if you'll tell me something," she said quietly, sidling closer to him.  

"I don't know about… Well, alright as long as you promise," he agreed reluctantly, meeting his sister's eager sapphire gaze as her smile broadened.  

"Of course I do, dear brother!  Now, I want you to tell me everything you know about him!" she piped zealously, "You fought him didn't you?  Of course you did, you had to, right?  Was he a very skilled Guymelef pilot?"  Celena felt a twinge deep inside her psyche at the mention of the word, and she found herself gripping Allen's white sleeve anxiously as he unenthusiastically responded.  

"Yes, I must admit he was a very skilled pilot, but… He was so bloodthirsty and ruthless.  That's all that made him good, was want of blood Celena, now do see why I don't want you to have to hear this?" he finished with a hint of anger lacing his tones at seeing her wide blue eyes flash with exhilaration as he spoke.

The crimson fires faded from them as they felt Allen's piercing gaze, and Celena gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mild horror while keeping the other still tightly clinging to her flower.  

"Oh, I-I'm sorry, that's terrible," she admitted hastily, shaking her head to clear the pleasing sounds of screams from her ears, "But don't stop there, I want to know everything!"  Allen scowled at the then completely red sky which had begun to fade to inky blue, and sidled closer to Celena and into a more comfortable position, knowing that he would not escape telling her, and it would be better the words be uttered where no one but the two of them could hear the memories he so desperately wished to erase forever.  

"Well, what do you want to know first?  I'll tell you now I know very little," he divulged bitterly as he crossed his arms over his knees in a fetal position.  

"Then tell me simple things.  What color was his Guymelef?" asked Celena, transfixed.  

"Now why would you want-" Allen began to snap, but stopped himself with a low growl under his breath, "We always knew it because of the color… It was red.  Blood red."

Celena licked her lips as her brother sank lower into the comfort of his own arms, and she wrapped one of her own about his shoulders to gaze upon the horizon with him.  

"Red like blood…" she repeated in a whisper as she felt the grin in her mind again, "Or red like fire…  And what did he look like?  Did you actually ever see his face?"  

"I did, once, he had icy gray almost white hair, cruel heartless and cold red eyes, and an ugly scar on his cheek where Van had slashed him in defense of his own life," Allen's eyes narrowed bitterly as he spoke, glancing furtively for only split seconds out of the corners of them to the young girl beside him.  

"I-He tried to kill King Van of Fanelia?" she breathed in appalled veneration, her lips curling into a sneer as she reached up to touch her cheek gently, running a finger down a faintly stinging line as her vision was lost in the sea of red in the sky before her. 

Celena smiled and allowed a secretive laugh to escape her lips, and Allen felt a small twinge of fear within his heart as he looked upon her at last to see her once kind and loving blue irises enflamed with the light of the sun and cast in pure ruby.  

"Was he truly awful?" she queried at length, "Was he really the cold hearted murderer like you say?  Or do you simply carry an anger for him in your heart?  Something you can't forgive him for and you still see in me?"  Allen's breath came short in his chest only once at her words and he scoffed loudly at her, closing his eyes and turning away to better hide the fury he wished his beloved sibling and only family never to see.  

"I have no anger in my heart toward anyone," he answered at once in a firm voice, "Look Celena, he's gone now, there is really no need for this."

A harsh spiteful laughter resounded from somewhere distant and the young woman looked to the skies to search for it, and only after thinking she must be mad to only find the crimson clouds, realized she had indeed located it.  

"Sometimes I think you worry too much about me, and him, that perhaps I carry that kind of hatred in my soul still," she whispered, grazing the petals of the flower that remained within her grasp against her still stinging cheek.  

"Oh no, no Celena, I don't think that at all!  Not at all!" Allen responded brightly as he returned her embrace, "Dilandau is gone forever… You are my one and only little sister, and I love you more than anything!  I above all people know you are a kind and gentle person and would never hurt a soul.  But please, please see why I didn't want this for you, and let us put the past behind us and move on."

Celena nodded silently as she fell into her brother's warmth and arms, closing her eyes to sink for one last moment within the deep scarlet void that opened whenever she looked inside herself.  

"You're right, brother, he is gone, and we can live together now without fear, I promise you," she swore fervently, smiling as Allen took her by the shoulders tenderly to look into her sincere blue gaze.  

"Alright then, let's go back to the castle okay?  It'll be dark soon," he said gently, stroking her cheekbone affectionately with his thumb.  

"All right, brother, but you go first, I'll catch up, there were a few things I wanted to say here by myself, if it's all right with you," replied Celena mournfully, to which Allen nodded.  

"Sure, I understand, I'll walk slowly," he promised with one final smile and stood, looking back only once before disappearing beneath the crest of the hill.

Celena stood, and drew the delicate pink blossom back into the sunlight plaintively, her glittering irises reflecting the red splotches upon its otherwise immaculate and flawless limbs.  

"One who can never be forgotten…" she whispered, looking up into the darkening strata with a defiant grin, and echoing the cold chortle she felt rising from deep within the furthest reaches of her mind and body as she raised the flower to the center of the sky.  

"One who can never be forgotten," she repeated with a wily smirk, "Is never truly gone…"  

Her vision clouded as she began down the hill, the flower pressed so tightly against her chest she could feel her heart beating strongly beneath the veil of memories she refused to let the winds wash away from it, and as the sun finally set beneath the purple hills to die alone beneath the horizon, its last vision and sentiment was of a figure and eyes, bathed in the color red.


End file.
